


Imperium Caedus

by Oniko



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Broken Shiro, Champion!Shiro, Emperor!Keith, M/M, Torture, only not really, theprojectava
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oniko/pseuds/Oniko
Summary: Emperor!Keith AU Based on theprojectava Dark AU. Keith kills Lotor and becomes the Emperor of the Galra, but something went terribly wrong. In achieving victory they lost Shiro to the demons in his own mind, and now only the Champion is left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This piece is heavily based on theprojectava's dark verse Emperor!Keith AU where the basic premise is that Keith kills Lotor and, in a Chronicles of Riddick's Necromonger-like way, becomes the next Emperor. At some point during the process something went wrong with Shiro, trapping him in the Champion mindset. I really liked the idea of getting into Shiro's POV in this kind of setting. 
> 
> Also a bit about the title; I'm not terribly familiar with Latin. If any readers out there are... I'm so sorry. I liked the idea using Latin for a story so heavily based on the Galra Empire because of the allusion to the Roman Empire. So, I did the best I could, but please realize the title is pretty much me slamming two unrelated words together in hopes of communicating an idea. Caedis is the Latin word for "murder, slaughter, assassination, gore" that I think sums up the heart of this dark verse very well.

  

"It's done," Keith said. His voice shook but his hands gripped the bloody red bayard firmly. Shiro's world snapped into place with those words. He experienced a sudden crystal clarity that he hasn't felt since the year he spent bleeding on the sands in Sendak's arena. Ever since he had escaped he had been living on borrowed time while the Iayers of brutal conditioning continuously wore at him. Commands pounded into his brain with every breath and every heartbeat.  _Serve the Empire._

Whenever they drew close to the Imperial Center the demands grew proportionally louder until they were a cacophony ringing in his ears. This time was the worse. During the fight through Central Command they were stronger then they had ever been before. He had been drowning in a sea of words and he knew instinctively that if he allowed himself to slip under even once, he would never reach the surface again. He had to concentrate so hard to think past the roaring noise in his head that his focus had narrowed to a single point; the simple rise and fall of his arm as he cut down whatever obstacle appeared before him. All the while a vice clamped tighter and tighter around his skull.  _Protect the Emperor._

But the Emperor lay dead at their feet.

And, everything snapped. In the wake of it he couldn't help but wonder why he had been so afraid in the first place. It all made perfect sense now. Everything they had been through led up to this single point.

He could see, now, that the life he had played at as a paladin of Voltron had been killing him, just as surely as any knife or poison. Only worse. He had been killing himself by inches throwing himself from one battle to the next. Choices that seemed right in the heat of the moment made martyrs of villains and murderers of heroes after the flames had died. After everything this was one decision he couldn't bring himself to regret. Here, as he stood in the Zarkon's throne room with the bodies of guards and commanders laying at his feet, he was reminded of his own turning point in the arena. A faceless guard handed him a shattered bone sword with an ugly laugh. "You keep what you kill."

From slave to Emperor, the only things that were truly yours were the things that you were willing to kill or die for.

Keith started to turn away from the body. "Shiro-"

"You know what Galra culture requires, don't you?" Of course Keith knows. He spent time with the Blade of Marmora. Knowledge or death.

"Shiro, no-" There was ever only one way that this was going to go. 

"You keep what you kill."

Keith tries to speak, an ineffective attempt to hold back the inevitable.

" _Vrepit sa_ , My Emperor," the Champion said. His fist held over his heart in salute. In many small ways he had always served his Emperor but this was the first time he could openly express his devotion.

Keith's stared at the Champion with eyes that had gone wide and wild. He stepped forward and his expression twisted, "C'mon, Shiro, that's not funny."

The Champion said nothing. There was nothing to say. As the silence stretched on he held his position with his back straight and head held high. He would wait for as long as it took for his Emperor to realize the truth of who he was. Of who they both were.

But before the uncomfortable stalemate could drag on for too long, there came a sound of the door leading out to the main corridor opening. They both turned as the sound echoed through the expansive hall. The Champion stepped forward and activated his arm, ready to defend his Emperor.

In the doorway stood an Altean woman wearing white armor with pink highlighting the pauldrons and other points while doing nothing to hide the black starbursts of a recent firefight. She strode forward with a firm step and her wary eyes scanned for danger as she made her way towards them. She stopped just out of arms reach.

"Allura." Keith's voice was soft with barely contained relief, but the Champion did not relax his stance. Attack could come at any time and from any quarter. "Are you okay? Did you-?"

Allura shook her head. "I'm fine, but Haggar got away."

"Damn, that's gonna come back to bite us."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Hey. You're okay. That's the important part, right Shiro?" When the Champion made no move to answer both Allura and Keith turned to him. "Shiro?"

He remained still, but didn't miss the laden look that they gave each other after the silence stretched on. Keith shook his head in a short, sharp negation. Allura frowned at him but did not argue against the unspoken command. Instead she turned her gaze on the broken body at the foot of the dais. Her voice when she spoke. She sounded world-weary and older than her unlined face would indicate. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. I thought- I'd hoped- that Lotor meant what he said when he spoke of peace."

Keith let out a harsh laugh. His eyes were hard as his hooded gaze was turned inwards. The Champion didn't like it; ghosts were not enemies he could fight. "We knew he was a manipulative liar from the start. Doesn't make him not one when he says all the right things. It just makes us stupid."

"Keith-" Allura reached out to his Emperor. As an offer of comfort or an attack of opportunity the Champion wasn't sure. Either way she pulled back at the last minute and he didn't need to step in. "I know this wasn't what you wanted--and I'm sorry for asking you to do this--but, we have a chance for real peace now."

"I know," he said with a deep sigh. "So, how do we do this?"

"An announcement. You'll need to show the Galra that Lotor is dead and you have ascended to the throne." She looked around. "I'm sure both Zarkon and Lotor made announcements from here. There must be a communications center nearby. I'm going to go take a look."

"Be careful," Keith yelled after her as she loped off to explore the wings. He also looked around. His eyes landed on the massive throne. It dominated the room. "An announcement- from there?"

The Champion felt his heart ache with pride and his lips curled up with a vicious joy that he couldn't contain as he watched his Emperor step over the shattered bodies of his enemies to take his rightful place.

Keith sat down hesitantly and rested the red bayard, still in blade form and still bloody, against his leg. Blood smeared across the white protective plating. The crimson of the red paladin's armor made him look even more like a conquering king. He poked and prodded at invisible seams in the the wrought arms of the throne. Without warning a fan of purple holographic screens unfolded and floated unsupported in the air in front of him.

"Alright, I think I have this figured out," the Altean woman's voice emanating from one of the smaller screens. It sounded tinny and distant.

"Glad one of us does," Keith said.

"Let me just zoom out a little- there we go. Do you know what you are going to say?" She asked.

"Yeah- mostly," Keith said. The last part mumbled more to himself then said out loud.

"Ready? Going live in three, two-" Instead of verbalizing 'one' there was a audible hum and the light of thousands of active projectors turned on filling the throne room with holographic reflections of Galra commanders from across the Empire.

He could see the moment that Keith froze up as the realization of the size of what they were doing hit. Each visible person there could represent anywhere between a fleet of a few hundred thousand soldiers with support to entire systems of over 30 billion sentient creatures. The hall was so filled with transparent images that some of them overlapped with shimmering blue static. Fortunately, Keith's panic response was to go completely and perfectly stone still allowed the Champion to step up before anyone could notice that anything was amiss.

"Citizens of the Galra Empire," the Champion announced, his voice rolled out across the room and across the vast expanse of the Empire. "Today is the dawn of a new era. Lotor is dead. Look now upon your new Emperor."

He watched as eyes tracked from him to the sprawling dead body of Lotor, then up to the Emperor seated on his throne. The Emperor that looked out over the crowd with steely resolve 

"All fleets are to pull back from embattled sectors and maintain defensive positions until further notice," the Emperor said abruptly. For all his prior nerves, the command in Keith's voice was compelling and the Champion could see the effect it had on their audience as many stood straighter in spite of their clear shock. "Anyone who continues to maintain hostilities will be considered a traitor and enemy of the Empire."

His proclamation delivered; the Emperor once again fell silent. Again the champion stepped up before the silence could draw on too long. A phrase echoed from- somewhere, some-when in his white haze of memory. "The Emperor is dead; long live the Emperor.  _Vrepit sa!_ "

There was a few scattered salutes throughout the crowd before the feed was cut and the throne room was dark and empty once again.

_I know you have it in you to be a great leader, Keith._

And now the universe will know it, too.

* * *

 

The Champion awoke to find himself bound to a chair in a brightly lit medical facility he recognized from the Castle of Lions. He had been stripped of his armor and his arm was forcibly shut down by a heavy cuff clamped over where the metal met flesh. The last thing he remembered was waiting in the throne room for the Altean woman to return from the communications hub. The only thing that kept him from panicking was the fact that his Emperor was directly across from him leaning against the stark white wall. Keith was completely free and unfettered.

And armed. He had his luxite blade out and carefully inspected the well-honed edge for imperfections. He had also removed his paladin armor, but instead of being left in the black bodysuit, he had changed into his normal civvies. The Champion relaxed. Whatever had happened was either with his Emperor's permission or at his command.

"He's awake," a voice announced from behind the Champion. Male. Altean. Not being able to see the speaker made his skin crawl, but he remained focused on his Emperor. He wasn't about to give the Altean the satisfaction of showing weakness. "And the monitors are up."

His Emperor lifted his head. His gaze briefly lingering on the Champion's bound form before moving on to something else behind him. "Allura?"

There was a long silence before she finally answered. "I'm picking up some residue of corrupted quintessence, but nothing active."

He nodded and stepped away from the wall. Keith smoothly tucked the small blade away in a single, smooth motion and focused his attention entirely on the Champion. Without breaking eye contact Keith hooked a stool with his foot and dragged it across the floor to a stop directly in front of the Champion. 

"Who are you?" he asked, once he had settled on the seat.

The Champion answered promptly and without hesitation. "The Champion."

Keith's held tilted to one side as he carefully considered that response. "Who sent you?"

The Champion's brow furrowed as he tried to parse what his Emperor meant. No one but his Emperor could have him sent anywhere. "I don't understand the question."

"Why are you here?"

He glanced down at where his hands were fixed to the chair, "Because, this is where you want me?"

"Keith," the Altern woman, Allura, Spoke softly. "He may not know-"

"He knows," Keith interrupted her. His voice was cold and harsh. "That other clone knew."

"We don't know that," she protested.

"Princess," The Altean man said softly. "He had been worried-"

"He knew," his Emperor stated confidently when the Altean trailed off. "He just didn't want to admit it to anyone. Not even to himself, but he knew. Are you in pain? Any headaches?"

It took the Champion a moment to realize the last part was directed at him. "No."

"Light sensitivity? Ringing?''

"No, no."

"Hmm." Keith made a small, thoughtful sound and considered him carefully. "What's your name?"

"The Champion."

"That's a title not a name."

It wasn't a question, but his Emperor looked at the Champion like he expected an answer. "It's who I am."

"Why?" the Champion gave him a quizzical look, and Keith added "Why are you the Champion?"

"Because I win."

"And, who am I?"

 _Everything_. "My Emperor."

Keith's eyes flicked to the Alteans behind him, and the Champion could hear the quiet rustle of movement through no one spoke. "Where did we meet?"

"I don't kn-"  _Brutally hot sun pounded down like the hammer of God on dry cracked earth. The tarmac smelled of melting tar and jet fuel_. "A desert?"

"When did you first see the Black Lion?"

"I don't know."

"How did you lose your arm?"

 _The blood hung heavy in the air and tasted like copper in his mouth. 'Please, don't take my arm.'_ "They took it."

"Who did?"

 _You could've been our greatest weapon._ He flinched away from the memory. It was like knives cutting into his brain. "I don't know."

"Who are you?"

"The Champion,"

"Who sent you?" The questioning continued on the same vein for quite some time. Questions about events both personal and general were interspersed with the same two questions that his Emperor wanted the answers to 'who are you' and 'who sent you.' The Champion answered him as best he could, but the memories were like white noise in his head only occasionally interspersed with a jumbled knot of associations that made little sense.

He was disappointed in himself as his Emperor's frustration with his lack of answers grew. Fingers and heels tapped intermittently, starting and stopping. The Champion was lulled into a half-daze by exhaustion and repetition. _I don't know. I don't know. I don't know._

The stool hit the ground with a loud clatter that startled him awake, and there was a knife at his throat. The cold edge of the luxite blade rested against fragile skin. One wrong move by ether of them and he would be bleeding out. Fingers were threaded through his short hair. They gripped him tightly and held him perfectly still. Keith's cold gaze inches away from him encompassed the entirely of his vision, and he could feel Keith's breath hot on his cheek.

"Stop lying to me," his Emperor said with a low growl from deep in this throat that did not sound human.

"I'm not," he whispered. His voice was raw from speaking. The blade was lifted from his neck, and Keith slowly dragged the flat of it against the Champion's cheek. The quiet scrape of the edge across sparse stubble was louder then it should have been in the deathly quiet room. It was still almost drowned out by the pounding of the Champion's own blood in his ears.

"Please," Keith whispered. The coldness in his eyes replaced with a wet sheen. His voice was thick and close to breaking. "Please don't make me do this. I don't want to hurt you."

"Keith!" the threat was not lost on their audience if the shocked outrage in Allura's voice was anything to go by. "Keith, no. What are you-"

No one dared to breathe as the weight of some terrible decision bore down on them. The Champion stared stared into his Emperor eyes as they slowly lost the wet sheen of emotion and became cold and hard. 

"You two should probably leave for this next part," he ordered. Allura made another wordless sound of protest and there was the soft shuffling sound of movement. Coran spoke softly, the Champion could only pickup on a few disjointed phrases.  _Please, Princess... sometimes in war... don't  need to see this._... His Emperor glanced up, over the Champion's shoulder. "Leave the monitors up."

A moment later, the door hissed open and then shut.

Keith stepped back and tucked the knife away back in its sheath. His face was an expressionless mask. 

"Please," the Champion said abruptly as he watched his Emperor turned to examine the nearby tray of sterilized surgical tools. "Don't use this as an excuse"

Keith didn't look up from his task. "An excuse for what?"

"An excuse to hurt me," The Champion said flatly, with as little inflection in his voice as he could manage. It wouldn't do to appear weak to his Emperor. Even now. Perhaps, especially now. "If that's what you want, I wouldn't stop you. Whatever you need."

"I told you, I don't want to hurt you," his Emperor said as he picked up a set of shears. The long blades were made of a silvery-white metal like everything else and the edges had the blue glow of a micro-filament blade.

The words  _'Then don't,'_  had almost slipped out, but that would've sounded weak. Like he was begging when that was the farthest from the truth. The Champion knew his Emperor, and knew that if his Emperor felt there was something that he needed to do then he would never let what something so petty as what he wanted get in the way of that duty. The Champion understood this down to the marrow in his bones, but the words to say so drifted out of reach. 

The shears were completely silent as Keith slowly opened and closed the blades. The Champion unquestioningly trusted trusted his Emperor. Truth or pain or anything his Emperor needed, the Champion would gladly give them up. Neither of those things stopped the adrenaline and fear singing through his veins in anticipation of what was to come. "Whatever you need, my lord."

Keith stepped into place in front of the Champion. The shears in one hand. He reached out to cup the Champion's cheek with the other before sliding it down to pull away at the neckline of the bodysuit. The spine of the shears was cold against the Champion's skin as it slid under the cloth. The taut fabric parted with a rip that was more felt by the give of the material then by heard. 

"What I need," his Emperor said as he slowly cut down the sleeve. "...Is the truth. Can you do that?"

"Yes," he said with a sinking feeling. He knew already that he wouldn't be able to give Keith the answers he wanted to hear.

"Who are you?"He closed his eyes. The next section of cloth parted and cool air brushed his skin.

"The Champion."

"Who sent you?" And on it went. Question asked and answers given while the black body suit was cut away and his chest was bared. Keith set down the shears from the tray where he picked them up. He carefully selected a small mono-filament scalpel and laid it flat against an old scar. The back edge of the blade was carefully traced along the contour of the muscle.

"Where did we meet?" 

_Heat._

"Desert."

_The roaring sound of idling jet engines._

"Launch-" Keith's head tilted to the side in a silent request to continue. The scalpel stilled on his skin. He panted with the struggle to drag coherent words out of one of the few memories that weren't knives in the dark. "Someone mentioned...hotshot cadet breaking all my old records...something special... if he didn't get expelled first."

"Good," Keith said softly. He reached out with his empty hand to gently card through the Champion's dark hair. The Champion leaned into the gentle touch, and couldn't stop the soft whine that escaped. His Emperor knelt down so he was looking up into the Champion's eyes. "Now, tell me again. Where did we meet?"

"It was...the desert... prepping for the Kerberos mission." The words came before he had barely thought of them, sliding out between the holes in his memory. "...Telling me about a Junior cadet breaking all my old records...hairsbreadth away from getting expelled."

As he spoke the words were easier. He barely noticed the scalpel being pulled away. Keith's hands clasped his. They were warm and comforting.

"Class was visiting the launch site...pointed you out," the brief flash of a place, grey halls and stale air, barely had any connection to the words that brought it forward. "I walked you through... pilot training area."

Keith leaned forward, pulling the Champion's head up, where it had dropped due to the exhaustion from his struggle to remember. Indigo eyes filled his vision, and he relaxed further into the small comforting sounds his Emperor breathed.

"Tell me again."

The Champion breathed carefully around the blank spaces in his head, trying to draw the broken thoughts together. The words came out stronger this time. "I was stationed at the Galaxy Garrison prepping for the Kerberos mission. Iverson told me about you. A hotshot cadet breaking all my old records. You were trouble from the start and one strike away from getting expelled. He pointed you out when your class came through on a field trip, and asked me to mentor you when-"

"Tell me about the scores."

He stopped and blinked at the unexpected question. "Scores?"

"The leaderboard. What were the top names?"

"K. Kogane."

"And?"

"And-" It was hard to think through the white noise in his head. "And, T. Shirogane."

Keith's thumb rubbed comforting circles to the back of his hand. "And who are you?"

He opened his eyes, not entirely sure when they had drifted close. The white noise was gone, and he knew. Just as he knew that his Emperor wouldn't like his answer. "The Champion."

With a snarl, warm hands were ripped away. The Emperor lashed out, throwing the small table across the room. The tray with various medical tools hit the wall and floor with a resounding metallic crash. Keith paced across from him, like a large cat trapped in too small of a cage. 

Slowly he calmed down. The luxite knife made a reappearance. Less as a threat, and more as a comforting weight. Keith worked the blade between his fingers like someone else might rub at a worry stone. That didn't stop the Champion from watching it with a wary eye. Eventually, Keith came to a stop, once more standing in front of him with the knife put away. He reached out to cup the Champion's cheek. "Shiro, where did we meet?"

The Champion swallowed, his mouth had gone suddenly dry. "I don't know."

"Okay," Keith said. He closed his eyes with a pained expression. He leaned in close, his hands cupping the Champions the face, and carefully. slowly breathing in the same air. "Okay."

And then he walked out of the room.

 

* * *

 

With no chronometer in view it was difficult for the Champion to tell how much time was passing. Even counting heartbeats was unreliable. His pulse had been ratcheted up just before his Emperor had left the room. Now, it was slowing down to a calmer, steadier pace and sweat cooled on his skin.

He strained his ears to hear any movement from beyond the closed door that was just out of his sight no matter how the tried to twist around. His Emperor had left him in this room with no explicit orders. While it could be reasonably inferred that he was meant to stay, the fact that there was an unknown number of other people on the ship made determining the best course of action- difficult.  _Protect the Emperor._

He needed to protect his Emperor, like he needed air to breathe. Which he could not do while bound to a chair when unknown individuals would be taking every moment to move against them. There were enemies both inside the Empire and out. Nowhere was safe.

Orders may be orders, but implicit orders were also not technically orders if they were never actually spoken. The Champion nodded to himself. If his Emperor was angry at him for trying to escape, well, he would bear the brunt of that when and if it happened. Right now he need to find a way to free himself and make his way to his Emperor's side.

Decision reached, The Champion began to systematically test the bonds that held him in place. It was no surprise that the metal bands securing him to the chair remained unmoved by the tugging from his weaker flesh arm. As a medical room in an Altean ship, he suspected that they were strong enough to hold an uncooperative Altean in place. The real question was how badly the clamp restricted the use of his prosthetic arm.

He could receive tactile feedback and flex his fingers, so it didn't completely shut the arm down. Unfortunately, he could not activate any of the weapon based functions. That was inconvenient but not insurmountable.

He carefully worked his arm at different angles to try and find the best leverage. The metal  _did_  move. It slowly, incrementally gave way as he worked at it.

He was so focused on the task that he missed hearing the soft hiss of the door opening He did not, however, miss the sound of footsteps across the room. He froze, ears straining to follow the newcomer's movements, and he signed with relief when his Emperor stepped into view.

He didn't look any worse for his absence, but by his troubled expression Keith was still unhappy. He didn't speak, but instead dropped a bundle of black and grey cloth and a pair of heavy black combat boots on the floor before swiftly unlatching the metal bands keeping the Champion bound Keith didn't even pause over the warped metal band still holding the Champion's prosthetic in place.

"Get dressed. We're leaving." The Champion didn't question his orders but quickly shucked off the remains of the black bodysuit before dressing in the Altean style black and grey shirt with black combat fatigues from Earth that had clearly seen better days. All the while The Champion kept a careful eye on his Emperor as he stood watch in the doorway and tapped out an impatient beat on the frame.

Once dressed he presented himself at his Emperor's side with a sharp salute. Keith's lip curled slightly in distaste but he offered no further criticism, only a brief handwave as he turned away. "Let's go."

The Champion fell into step behind and to the right his Emperor. Neither said a word as they headed into the maze of the castle's corridors.

"Keith?" They had barey reached the first intersection when the Altern woman stepped out from a side hallway.

"Allura," Keith said. He didn't sound happy to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question?" she snapped smarty, but her eyes flickered to the Champion and she faltered slightly. "I was going to see if Shiro needed- time in a healing pod."

"You think so Iittle of me?" he asked in a bitter, dry tone. "I'd thought you'd gotten better then that."

"You- you had said- That's not fair! What was I supposed to believe? " she protested. Keith sighed and rolled his tense shoulders.

"You're right. That's not fair. I'm sorry." He stepped slightly to the side and waved a hand to present the Champion for inspection. "As you can see he's- well, he's not fine but, he's not hurt.''

She stepped forward. Her brow was furrowed with worry, and her hands reached out. _Fingers curled in grasping claws as they reached out towards him from the darkness. "You could have been our greatest weapon."_

He held his ground, but something must have shown in his expression that caused her to flinch back. She hovered nervously with her hands clasped tightly over her heart and worried blue gaze darting between them.

"If that's all, we need to get going," his Emperor said. He brushed past the Altean and continued on towards the shuttle hangers. The Champion followed soon after, carefully edging around the Altean.

"Go?" she asked. The Champion bared his teeth in an silent snarl as she followed after them. "Go where? Keith?"

"Like you said, we have no way of knowing what was done to him," Keith said over his shoulder without slowing his pace. "But the Empire does."

"You seriously think Haggar is just going to give you her research?" she asked incredulously. "You killed her son!"

"If she's any kind of Galran-"

"She's Altean!"

"She's been a central part of the Galra Empire for over 10,000 years," he snapped back. "She's Galran enough to string me along with information while she works out how to best stab me in the back."

The Champion felt the quintessence hum through his prosthetic arm at the mention of the direct threat to his Emperor. He carefully shut down the channels before they could activate any surface changes. The witch wasn't here now, and wasn't an immediate threat.

"The point is," Keith continued speaking. "I can probably get something, a place to start at least. But, that means I have to go back."

"And what about the peace talks? We need you here to work out the treaty with the Coalition."

He didn't answer. The long silence stretched out between them. 

"Keith?"

"The treaty will have to be put on hold," he said softly.

"What? Why?"

"Because, I'm not going to get anything if my first act is to shut down the entire bloody Empire!"

"Keith! You can't be serious!" They arrived at the door to the shuttle hangers. The wide open bay housed a number of shuttles of different makes and models from a number of sources from the original Altean pods, to boxy Rebellion transport and sleek Galra fighters. The Emperor led them to a larger Galra figher. It was possibly the only ship outside one of the lions that could make the trip to Command Central without a wormhole.  He slapped his hand against the bio-lock. "One man is not worth peace for the universe."

The Chamption stepped into the open hatch to examine the empty interior. His Emperor's words drifting after him. "Shiro is."

"I don't believe this is a wise choice," she said. One last weak protest.  

"Your objections are duly noted." his Emperor said as he followed the Champion into the fighter. The hatch slid shut silently leaving the Altean on the far side.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words on Words: The use of Galran/Galra I find to be frustratingly inconsistent. After a look at some of the show's transcripts, I've decided to go with the use of "Galran" to refer to a single individual whereas "Galra" is used for a collective or as an adjective.

 

The Champion exited the shuttle on to docking pad of Central Command first. The hanger was mostly empty with only a few scattered patrols were strategically placed throughout the open space. The nearest to their ship gave them a perfunctory glance before snapping back to the Champion. The helmet covered the Galran's eyes, but the slack-jawed expression of shock was universal. The soldier snapped sharply to attention when the Emperor stepped out of the shuttle.

They had honestly expected the grunts to not recognize them considering that Keith had spent most of his incredibly short reign either in Alliance space or in transit. Even with the announcement they sent immediately after Lotor's death they had considered the chances good that the transmission went no further then the commanders who received it, but apparently someone had taken pains to make sure these Galra were up to date on current politics.

The Emperor strode past the Champion and descended on the Galran with grim determination. "Where's Haggar?"

The Galran took a step back in the face of that fierce snarl, before he caught himself and held his ground. "T-the High Priestess? Probably the throne room with-"

The Emperor had started past the young soldier to find his target, but quickly pivoted back to the Galran at the cut off word. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. "With who?"

"C-commander Sendak," He stammered out.

"Cockroach," Keith muttered under his breath, before continuing in a louder voice. "Seems like suspiciously good timing on his part."

It wasn't phrased as a question, but the impatient glare that accompanied it demanded explanation. The Galran shook but held his sharp salute as he reported. "Sendak's fleet has been combing the quiet zones for phoebs, picking up support or just commandeering troops. He was using the- um Lotor's? Altean heritage as goad to draw purists to his banner."

"Lovely, alien racists," Keith drawled. He sounded not at all surprised.

"Um, he was making a lot of boasts about publicly humiliating Lotor, but-"

"But I'm sure he'll be happy to make due with me," Keith finished. "We'll need armor, and I need a different sword. Where's the nearest armory?"

"The- um- infantry locker is down the main corridor," the Galran pointed towards the interior of the ship. "Second door to the left. Pass-passcode is 7568."

Keith stalked down the hanger with a short 'thanks' tossed over his shoulder. The Champion stopped midway through turning to follow his Emperor. Something about this situation didn't sit right. It crawled under his skin like an itch he couldn't reach. He studied the Galran carefully trying to pin down the source of his discomfort. The Galran was shifted nervously under his flat stare the longer the impromptu staring contest went on.

Words floated up from hazy memory.  _Operational Security_. The way they had entered unannounced from Alliance Space they could have been compromised. They could have been anyone. Alteans were known shapeshifters, and hardy the only chameleon species in the universe. The armory for the infantry units probably only stocked the basic essentials at the lowest quality, but it was still kept under lock and key for a reason. No one wanted to arm their own enemies if someone had managed to make it this far into their territory. Voltron had already done it on three separate occasions after all.

Eventually the Galran gathered himself to snarl in retaliation at the Champions piercing stare. "What do you want,  _na'galra_?" 

The slur didn't translate well, but the Champion remembered very clearly what the word meant. Literally 'non-person,' it was used to reference slaves and other subjugated peoples. 

"Careful, there," the Champion said with a small smile and a placid tone.  "Traitor twice over--once when your commander decided to betray the Empire and again to betray your commander to save your own skin. I'm more galra then you are," He reached out to brush away an invisible speck on the Galran's armor. The quintessence lit up his hand and the energy thrummed along the metal leaving the stench of burning steel in its wake. "And if you give out confidential information again--I don't care to who--you had better hope that they kill you."

The soldier stumbled back clutching at the scorch marks left on his shoulder, as the Champion brushed past him to follow his Emperor. Keith was right. They did need armor if they were expected to fight Sendak.

The Champion found his Emperor already in the armory half into a bodysuit. The armory was little more then a narrow closet tucked into the space between adjacent corridors. Keith glanced up as he shut and secured the door.

"Took your time. Everything alright?'" he asked as he sealed the final seams on the bodysuit and started fitting the armor. 

"Yes," The Champion answered simply. He waited at the sharp look his emperor gave him, but when no questions were forthcoming he turned to examine the limited options available for armor. All of it was designed to be powered by quintessence. He frowned at the dark quintessence coils embedded in the armor. These were all stored in a depowered state and the storage cells were empty.

A hand rested on his arm. The Champion turned to find Keith studying him with his brow furrowed and lips twisted into a worried frown. "Its okay if its not."

It wasn't a question or an order. The Champion wasn't even entirely sure that the reassurance was actually meant for him. Without a word the Champion turned away and picked up a bodysuit closest to his size and began to change under his Emperors watchful gaze. He discarded the knife that came with the suit and instead synced it up with his prosthetic arm. As the armor pieces clicked into place they lit up from the quintessence stored in his arm. He ran the armor through a basic test activating and deactivating the tightly controlled particle barriers threaded through carefully designed structure of the armor that made it both incredibly strong and incredibly lightweight.

"Tell me what you are thinking." The words were an order, but the tone was soft and pleading. The Champion turned to face his Emperor fully. He raised on hand to run along the edge of his depowered pauldron. Without quintessence the armor may not have been completely useless, but it wasn't anywhere near what he'd like for his Emperor.

"I will fight Sendak."

Keith raised one hand to rest over the Champions own. "We will-"

"No," he argued. He may not like contradicting his Emperor, but for his safety the Champion will do what is needed. "I will."

 "Shiro, I know-" Keith murmured softly with a pained sound as his expression crumpled into a frown. "I know it was bad--the last time you fought him. You shouldn't have to go through that again."

_Do you really think they'd accept a monster?_  Cryo-chambers smelled like ice and ozone. The Champion carefully turned the thoughts around in his head.  _We're connected, you and I, part of the Galra Empire_. 

"Its fine," he said. There was nothing Sendak could say that would get under skin like before. He was no longer a monster playing at being a man, and his Emperor had accepted him anyways. Sendak was nothing without his mind games, and they had more things to worry about then one rogue commander. "What's the plan?"

If Keith was confused by his question he didn't show it. Instead, he scrubbed his hand over his face. "Shit, you know I'm not the one for planning. Instincts- and all that."

The Champion knew that wasn't entirely true. Keith did have good instincts, and it helped him build plans with leaps of logic and insight that the Champion lacked. So, he watched and waited.

"He's going to make a spectacle of it," the Emperor said carefully as he worked through what he knew in his head. "He's adapting a plan put in place to go against Lotor to erode any personal loyalties Lotor may have built up. Lotor had been planning his own coup for a long time, he had to have built a far-reaching and resilient network for it to survive his exile. In order for Sendak to maintain order he would need to undermine that network without knowing who those people are. Galra are a proud people and public humiliation would drive away those supporters where even exile didn't.

"I don't have the same support that Lotor did, but he won't entirely scrap the plan--he'll still be able to use it to bolster his own popularity and support. But, if we can turn it on him," the Emperor spoke faster and more confidently. "We can use this to draw support to me instead. This will only help us in the long run. I need-"

He looked around with his fingers curling and grasping for a stylus that wasn't there. He poked at a terminal from his vambrace. "Why isn't this working?"

The Champion peered over his shoulder at the dead screen. "No power."

"I can see that," His Emperor growled irritably at the screen. Undertones deep in this throat gave the sound resonance that crawled up the the Champions spine and cause a startled gasp. Keith flushed slightly. "Sorry."

The Champion decided it was best to ignore both the apology and the cause. "The armor runs on quintessence."

"So does the Paladin armor," the Emperor said. "And that started up just fine when we first put it on."

"Different source." The Champion said simply. He didn't understand a lot about the alchemy involved with quintessence manipulation, only that it came from life. And, that the Galra had mastered all the ways to extract it. The Champion picked up the blade that this Emperor had set aside in favor for his luxite knife. Both knives were similar in form and construction. The primary difference being that the new blade had a different character etched in purple light into the fuller. The black tenebrous metal was poorer quality with a chipped uneven edge, and even he could sense that the quintessence it had been infused with darker than what was used for the luxite blade. He placed the blade in his Emperor's hand and bared the underside of his prosthetic arm. Allowing the flat of the blade to rest against a hidden channel of quintessence. A flex of thought and will brought the glowing lines to the fore.

"What's this?" His Emperor's voice wavered with uncertainty, but he remained still and steadfast under the Champion's direction.

"You need quintessence," he said and pressed the edge into the flow of energry. The knife was recalcitrant but sluggishly absorbed some of the refined quintessence from the Champion's arm. Once his Emperor had enough energy for the lines and ports to light on his arm, the Champion pulled away. "I can't give you much, not if I need to face Sendak."

"Shiro? How do you know this?" his Emperor asked. His voice was carefully pitched to be perfectly neutral. The Champion studied his Emperor's face carefully, but his expression was as flat as his voice and he gave nothing away.

"It's only what any soldier knows," the Champion answered carefully. It was minimal knowledge for the weapon he was.

"Any soldier," Keith repeated dubiously. "But you were never a soldier. Shiro, where did you learn this?"

"The arena?" He had to have been given access to armor at some point. Or killed something with access to armor. You keep what you kill.  _Right?_

For a moment his Emperor looked like he wanted to press further, but he slowly nodded and turned away from the Champion. Instead he used the now active terminal to pull up Empire reports and newsfeeds. He flashed a quick look back at the Champion. "I'm blaming you for this, by the way. I fucking hate writing speeches."

The last was muttered under his breath as notes from the pages he scanned were jotted down on a flat glowing screen that turned Keith's handwriting into purple flashes of light before they disappeared into the interface. The Champion smiled indulgently at the petulant glower. "You'll be fine."

"Clearly, you  _don't_  remember my Public Speaking finals," Keith said with a dismissive snort. "Easy 'A' my ass."

They worked in silence. The Champion focused on fine tuning his armor and streamlining the quintessence connections while his Emperor's attention torn between his work on the terminal and his armor. He juggled his activated vambrace along with the two knives and a sabaton before Shiro took away the footwear and the knives.  

"I'll need to get to the throne as soon as possible," Keith said. He turned his focus to his plans without complaint and balanced easily on one foot as the Champion placed and fitted the armor piece. "If you can keep Sendak focused on you I can use the throne's control panels to modulate what the other commanders see."

"No, let them see everything," the Champion said as picked up the other sabaton. If there was one thing he knew about the Galra it was that they enjoyed a spectacle, and they would never forgive if it was taken from them. Keith paused in his electronic digging through Imperial news and reports to give the Champion a hard look before giving a slow nod.

"No, you're right," he said. "But I'll still need the throne, for the perception of legitimacy and power."

"Yes." His Emperor would have his throne.

* * *

 

"I see it doesn't take very long for the vermin to come crawling out of the woodwork," Keith said conversationally as he nonchalantly crossed the open floor of the throne room. The Champion followed. His nerves were singing on high alert and he studied the opposition arrayed against them.

Sendak lounged on the massive throne. His large frame looked perfectly at ease, and his lips were twisted in a knowing smirk. Haggar was lurking in the shadows not to far from the throne, but not directly beside him. The Champion let a smirk of his own steal across his face. The witch didn't even support her own puppet. But, those were the only two he recognized as an actual threat. The collection of Galra commanders that Sendak had assembled shifted nervously as the realization of their mutiny started to sink in. They smelled more like prey then predators. The Champion refocused his gaze returned back to the usurper resting on the throne.

"Would you like me to remove it from your chair, my Emperor?"

 Sendak's fingers flicked over the purple screens. The room filled once again with the projections of Galra commanders from across the Empire. He left an open area surrounding them, giving everyone clear view for when the fight for the Empire started.

"Hiding behind your pet,  _My Lord_?" Sendak sneered. The Champion curled his fingers into a fist. He was more then ready to put Sendak in his place. He needed to be reminded that he was no longer the Emperor's favorite.

The Emperor-- _his_  Emperor--stepped back and turned to the Champion. He raised one hand to rest on the Champion's cheek with a silent apology in his dark eyes before letting his hand fall to rest on the Champion's shoulder. He turned back and studied Sendak long enough that the drawn out silence caused their audience to shift nervously.  He ignored Sedak completely--much to the larger Galran's displeasure--and turned to address Haggar.

"I should thank you," he said coolly. His voice was completely stripped of any emotion or inflection. "You spent so much effort and quintessence on making the perfect weapon. And, he is."

Keith leaned against the Champion to stake some unspoken claim, and the Champion in turn stood strong and unmoving under his weight. "He is my weapon--my Champion--and ordering him to kill you all is no different than picking up a sword and doing it myself."

If humans had the physical structures to purr, he would have. The Champion knew that Keith still didn't understand what he was saying. But time would correct that. The sentiment underneath still sent a thrill running up the Champion's spine.  _Mine_ , he was saying.  _Not yours._

Sendak stood up. The cloak half draped over his shoulders fluttered to the throne in a dramatic flare. His prosthetic arm lit up with purple quintessence  that caused the forearm and claw to unfold and expand out to ridiculous proportions. Sendak stalked towards them with a sneer still fixed on his face. "It doesn't matter. I'll put down your little pet, and then I'll take my time killing you."

By the leering expression on Sendak's face he would enjoy every moment of it that he could drag out. The Champion bared his teeth in a snarl and stepped in front of his Emperor. Sendak's glowing eyes fixed on him.

"Little monster," He purred. "Shall we see how you've grown since the last time?"

The Champion didn't wait for an invitation. He darted in close. The quintessence surged through his body. It reinforced straining muscles and he moved faster then was purely natural. He slammed swift strikes into Sendak's arm. The dark metal absorbing the hits with ease. Sendak grinned viciously. 

 "So, you finally accept yourself for the animal you are," He said as they pressed against each other metal and flesh straining against the forces. Sendak was still larger and stronger then the Champion and he slowly pushed the Champion back. "Still pathetic."

The Champion twisted to disengaged from their locked battle, but Sendak caught him in a vicious back swing that sent the Champion flying before he crashed into a support with a pained grunt.

"Still fighting for the losing side," Sendak shook his head in mock regret. "After everything we did for you. So ungrateful."

The Champion staggered to his feet. He spat out a mouthful of blood, and muttered under his breath.

"What was that, vermin?" Sendak snarled as he stalked forward. He doggedly followed the Champion as the Champion carefully circled around the large Galra commander. 

"Not losing," the Champion repeated.

Sendak's claw hand lunged forward across half the throne room, the trailing purple quintessence cut through the holographic images of the watching Galra. The Champion ducked under the blow and darted in close. This time his blows cracked against heavily reinforced Galra armor. Bright Quintessence leaked out where the storage casing cracked. A hard blow against Sendak's thigh caused the metal to crinkle inwards as the leg collapsed. 

The Champion pulled Sendak's head to the side with a fist in his hair. His throat was open and unprotected, ready for a quick cut of the Champion's knife hand to end the threat to his Emperor when Sendak's claw hand darted in at an impossible angle picking him up and dragging the Champion through the room, almost reaching the high vaulted ceiling.

Black quintessence arced around and through his body. The Champion screamed in pain, muscles pulling and contracting all at once. He didn't even notice when he hit the floor. He lay gasping on the floor, watching as Sendak strode across the room toward him, too stunned to move.

Fear and adrenaline flooded his veins and opened the flood gates on the stores of quintessence in his arm. The tenebrous metal in his arm writhed as it reconfigured itself. Wickedly curved claws of metal and energy erupted from his fingertips, and the underlying bone-like structure lengthened extending his reach. 

Sendak laughed "I told you, didn't I? You wouldn't be truly great until you finally let yourself go."

"You did say that," the Champion agreed. The broke apart and Sendak sent the detached portion of his hand flying towards the Champion. It slammed into the floor, narrowly missing him. Metal screamed and shattered. The two of them stared at each other over the crater in the floor. "And, you are still wrong."

Sendak laughed. "Are you going to try to tell me you won't enjoy feeling your hands rip through my guts."

He said it was such relish, that the Champion had to smile. 

"I will," he agreed. He lept forward, dancing through Sendak's rapid fire strikes and in the end his arm slammed though Sendak's chest. He punched though armor and flesh with equal ease. Quintessence as Sendak died flooded the Champion. It filled repaired and restored the damage he had suffered from the fight, and refilled his spent reserves.

When there was no more left to drain Sendak's dessicated corpse slid off of his arm to fall to the floor with a quiet thud. The Champion smiled. "But, that is not what makes me strong."

The throne room was deathly quiet. There were no cheers. Only a shocked silence. Ironic considering most of the audience had probably seen him in the arena--cheered his other victories--the outcome should not have been a surprise.

As he powered down from the fight, his prosthetic returning to natural human proportions, the Champion glanced around placing first his Emperor, and then Sendak's supporters. As they had discussed Keith had retreated to the throne and activated the particle barrier to protect him from any friendly fire. Haggar had disappeared from her shadow. The half-dozen Galra commanders that were actually there in the flesh were huddled against one wall looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

The Champion stepped around Sendak's body and strode forward to kneel directly in front of the throne. "The challenger is dead, my Emperor."

"Rise, my Champion," Keith said. His voice was carefully controlled and projected to carry. As the Champion did so, the Emperor raised one hand and in a simple gesture indicated the space beside the throne. The Champion stood and with slow steps took his place at the Emperor's right hand. 

"Since the death of Zarkon at the hands of his son," the Emperor said after a long measured silence. "The Empire has been in a state of uncertainty and disarray. After having an Emperor rule for so long unchallenged, this is unfamiliar territory for all of us. Since my own ascension so recently, I had planned for some time to focus on the day to day functions of the Empire that must continue before moving on to other considerations.

"Clearly, this time is over," he said with a pointed glare at Sendak's body that was currently crumbling to dust on the floor. "So, i will be plain. Some of you thought that Lotor was unfit to rule because he was a half-breed, and some of you are thinking the same of me." 

The commanders shifted uncomfortably at his open acknowledgement of his heritage. Keith allowed a moment for the words to sink in. Before he snapped at them. "You are fools! Lotor wasn't weak because he was a half-blood. He was weak because he was arrogant. And so was Sendak.

"Pure or half-blood, I will not tolerate weakness in my Empire," the Emperor shouted, his voice ringing through the hall.

"Victory or death. This founding truth of the Galra Empire will remain unchanging," Keith continued in a calmer tone, but still strong. "As we have for thousands of years before even Zarkon and as we will continue for thousands more now that he is gone; we will all rise and fall by our will and by our blades. Victory or death!"

" _Vrepit sa!_ " The Commanders cheered and saluted in response.

"From Emperor to the lowest servant we have all earned our place through blood and pain as challenger or defender," Keith paused and very pointedly looked at the small collection of commander's that Sendak had brought with them. "Now, a challenge to the throne is one thing, but that's not entirely what we have here, is it?"

The Champion could smell their fear. It was something he could get used to, seeing Galra commanders cowering in fear at his Emperor's whims. 

"You all left your posts and took your men with you, leaving the Empire weak and unmanned in your sectors," the Emperor continued. "While I could have the lot of you executed, I can also be generous and offer you a second chance to prove yourselves to the Empire."

The expressions of the audience shifted. In Sendak's commanders it was from from fear to hope and greed. For the other Galra in their audience it was to disgust and disappointment. Keith was rapidly losing his audience, and by the tightening of Keith's fingers on the throne's arm, he knew it as well. 

"Three," he announced coldly, and though his expression didn't waver, there was a fragile air to him in the tight set of his shoulders and the pale tightness to his lips. "A chance for three of you."

The silence was deafening. The audience shifted as Keith deftly flicked their view to show Sendak's supporters who had been huddling together now started edging away from each other as the implications sunk in. One in particular, a tall, lanky Galran with a crest of long hair, stepped forward even as he turned to address the other commanders.

"Are we about to let the Empire fall to a half-breed and a slave?" He spat out. "Sandak's arrogance was in acting alone. He couldn't breach Command Central alone. Why should he have expected to rule alone. If we work together-"

"I am not a traitor!" A heavily muscled female Galran screamed, cutting off his speech as she slammed into him with a massive spiked club that crushed his head and shoulder to the floor. 

Pandemonium erupted and two more of the commanders were dead before they realized what was even happening. The fight was short and brutal. It was over when the last two Galra circling each other, the large female and a smaller Galran of no discernible gender, realized that they were the only ones left. Both of them were liberally coated in blood, their own and from others. They tracked bloody footprints across the floor as they made their way to kneel before the dais. The Emperor studied them silently before speaking.

"You will be given your new assignments later. For now, get those wounds seen to." There was a groan and movement as one of the bodies was not quite as dead as it seemed. The Emperor dismissed them with a casual wave of one hand. "And take that with you."

The survivors shot wary glances at each other before coming to some silent agreement. They gave a shaky salute before retreating with their third. The Champion made a mental note to make sure there weren't any others playing dead. The Emperor did say only  _three_  after all.

Keith brought up a fresh collection of screens from the throne's control panels. The Champion recognized star charts and studied them with interest as the Emperor flipped though several to bring up a couple of high-lighted sections. He highlighted several profiles, and their images from the projected audience were brought forward. "The soldiers that Sendak misappropriated will be returning to their sectors. You five are the nearest commanders still in place and will be taking over these areas. Select Sub-Commanders for promotions as needed to assist with managing your new territories.

"Additional orders will follow as I incorporate foils to Alliance strategies." The Champion smirked at some of the wide-eyed looks that announcement received. How quickly they turn. A little bloodshed, a promise of future victory, and they were caught well and true. "For now, I would like you all to maintain defensive positions.  Policing activities to continue as needed; proactive measures are not to be taken without approval. Await further orders."

" _Vrepit sa_!" Keith didn't start shaking until after he had killed the communication feed with a sharp slashing gesture. The motion quickly changed direction as he clamped his fingers tightly over his nose and mouth. A futile gesture against the smell of blood and death that now permeated the throne room. 


End file.
